


Hush

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Gaslighting, Halward Pavus' A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian adores Rilienus. The man left Tevinter with him, sacrificed his own chance at becoming Magister. He watches out for Dorian, making sure that Dorian's father doesn't find him. They have a beautiful apartment in an amazing neighborhood and thriving careers. It's the happiest Dorian's ever been. So if sometimes Rilienus gets upset after a hard day at work, then what does it matter? Accidents happen, and Dorian isn't about to let that get in the way of what they have.</p><p>Iron Bull works for Skyhold PD. He's noticed Dorian around, and sometimes Adaar, bless her heart, manages to pry him out of the University to join her, Bull, and the Chargers for drinks. So maybe Bull and Dorian aren't quite friends, but they're close enough that Bull can see that something's going on. He just has to figure out what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never To Know

“Hurry the hell up, Chief, we're meeting at the Griffon in fifteen,” Krem said, voice made tinny by the shitty cell phone Bull bought on sale.

Bull grunted and shouldered his coat higher up, protecting his neck from the cold mountain air. Krem might call him Chief, but in reality, they were the same rank. Malika Cadash was the real Chief of Police, not Bull. “I'm just gonna pry Adaar out of her office first,” he replied. “She's up to her tits in paperwork.”

“Damn, that's impressive,” Krem replied. “See you in a bit.”

Bull climbed the stairs to the library of the University of Skyhold, stamping his feet to knock the snow from his boots. Adaar's office was in the middle of the Library. She preferred it there, she said, with reference material around her, instead of the overly-fancy offices reserved for the President of the college.

He gave Sera a big wave as he passed by her desk on his way into the office.

“You gonna help me pry her outta there?” Sera asked, leaning over her desk. “Thanks. She's tits-deep in bullshit.”

Bull, Cadash, and the Chargers usually met up with Adaar and Sera at the Rocking Griffon when their schedules lined up, so Wednesday was drinking night. Blackwall ran a good pub, served good drinks, and good food.

So half the time, Bull sent the Chargers on ahead while he swung by the University to scrape Adaar out of the mounds of paperwork she'd buried herself in. This was one of those days.

"Don't you have a secretary? In fact, I'm pretty sure she's right outside," Bull said, stopping in the doorway to Adaar's office.

Adaar sat behind a massive amount of books and binders. She hunched over the desk, her large frame almost dwarfing it. Despite her size, she had soft, generous curves, and none of the hulking muscle that typically defined Qunari. She sighed heavily, scratching at the base of her curling horns, then tucked a stray curl back into its messy bun.

"Sera does her best keeping people away from me, but everyone has their limits," she said, carefully removing her tortiseshell glasses. "And more things need my attention than I want to admit."

Bull chuckled. "Aw, come on, you knew what you were getting into," he said.

Iron Bull and Adaar went back, way back. She was one of the few Tal-Vashoth he knew and liked even before he left the Qun himself. Adaar helped him through all the shit that came with breaking away from his people, so he owed her a lot. She took zero shit from anyone, and her steadfastness and trust in Bull made her one of his closest friends.

“Just let this shit sort itself out,” Bull said, waving his hand at the mess on the desk. “It can wait another day or so.”

Adaar chuckled. “Don't worry, Josie's meeting me in about ten minutes. I'll wait for her and then fetch Dorian out of the library. He promised he'd go out with us tonight. You want to wait, then walk with us?”

Bull shrugged. “I don't mind a few minutes to let my ass thaw.”

Bull liked Dorian, but he didn't get out much. The Chargers accepted him as soon as they found out he'd rejected all that magister bullshit, and Dorian and Krem were thick as thieves, most of the time. Lately, they'd been seeing less and less of Dorian. Dorian sometimes threw himself into his research a bit too much.

If Bull got really, really honest with himself, he'd like to know Dorian a hell of a lot better. Dorian might have an air of cultured civility and tempered vanity, but when you got him talking, Dorian displayed a frightening intellect. Dorian wasn't hard on the eyes, either, and Bull knew pretty when he saw it. Dorian was definitely pretty. All that bronze skin, silver eyes, and perfect body made Bull wish that Dorian was single.

But Dorian was already in a relationship, and happily so. Bull might have fewer hang-ups than most people when it came to sex, but he never stuck his dick where it wasn't wanted.

Finally, Adaar sat back with a sigh as her phone lit up, a sweet Orlesian ballad playing. Damn, if Adaar and Josephine weren't the two sappiest lovebirds.

“Josie,” Adaar said, her voice fond. “Come on up, I'm all done for today.”

They met Josephine by Sera's desk. Josephine wore some sort of fluffy coat with elegant ruffles, all in dark pink and gold. She tugged Adaar down for a quick kiss, the two of them smiling so sweetly that Bull wanted to coo at both of them.

“Ready?” Josephine asked, adjusting Adaar's multicolored scarf.

Sera rummaged around in her backpack and pulled out the most ridiculous earmuffs Bull had ever seen: bright neon yellow, glittery, and only vaguely shaped like snowflakes.

“Hey, hold on with those, I only have the one eye left,” Bull said.

Sera stuck her tongue out at him. “Shove it up yours, then. Widdles bought them for me.” She crammed the earmuffs on, grinning ear to ear. “And I like em.”

“Well, let's go find Dorian and get going!” Adaar said, linking hands with Josephine.

Dorian's 'office' was more or less an entire corner of the second floor of the library, with open archways leading into his area. Large, comfy chairs sat along the walls, and Dorian's desk sat in the middle of it all, surrounded by bookcases, the surface obscured by notes and more books.

Dorian himself sat in one of these plush chairs, book in hand. As they approached, he carefully marked his page with a stray piece of paper.

“Ready to get out of here?” Adaar asked.

He waved a hand dismissively. “My dear, I'm positively up to my ears in research papers. Every grad student in the Necrology department wants my input on their thesis papers.”

Sera plopped herself down on Dorian's desk. “You don't get enough air 'n stuff, you'll be all bald like Sir Eggs-a-Lot,” she said, taking the book out of Dorian's hands.

Dorian pressed a hand to his chest in mock horror. “I, bald? I'd rather perish.”

“Blackwall's got this new Antivan brandy that he claims will raise the dead,” Adaar said, waggling her eyebrows at Dorian. “It's for research, Dorian.”

He laughed. “Very well, I know when I'm outnumbered. Let me get my coat, and then we can leave.”

Sera nodded. “Damn right you are. Been too long. You hardly ever get out anymore, startin to get all musty an stuff.”

Once they were all suitably bundled up, they trudged down the street to the Griffon. It was cold enough to make their breath fog, and the wind had stopped, instead snowing lightly on their heads.

Bull might miss the heat of Par Vollen, but there was something so serene about snowfall. It laid a blanket of silence over everything, and brought people closer together as they walked in tight groups to conserve heat.

The Rocking Griffon sat at the edge of campus, making it a popular hangout for everyone. Blackwall's bar served the best fries in the city, a good addition to any night of drinking. They stamped their feet on the mats laid out just inside the bar, the heat hitting them and soothing their freezing ears and noses.

Krem, Dalish, and Rocky crowded around their usual table, a massive round thing in the corner. Lavellan and Dagna had already joined them, and Bull could see Cullen at the bar getting drinks for everyone. Cadash was absent from her usual spot, too busy with a major investigation into illegal lyrium smuggling. Ironic, considering Cadash used to do the same sort of thing herself, when she was young.

Sera plopped down in the chair next to Dagna and kissed her cheek. “Hey, Widdles! Hey, your Mayoralness.”

Lavellan raised his beer. “I'm not the mayor if I'm not wearing a suit and shoes,” he said, wiggling his bare toes under the table.

“It's _freezing_ outside,” Dagna said, scooting closer to Sera. “How do you stand it?”

The elf wiggled his fingers at her. “ _Magic_.”

“Oi, that's cheating,” Sera said, unwinding one end of her too-long scarf to wrap around Dagna. Dagna didn't seem to mind at all. “Is it? Seems like cheating.”

Krem gave Dorian a wave. “Altus.”

“Soporatus,” Dorian replied, with a very extravagant bow. “And how are you enjoying this lovely weather?”

“Better than having to go toe-to-toe with those dog-sized roaches they have in Minrathous,” Krem replied, raising his beer to Dorian. “Sure, I might have been chased out of Tevinter, but I'm not going to complain about the lack of monster bugs.”

“You scared of bugs, Krem?” Rocky asked.

“I don't think deep, overwhelming hatred is the same thing,” Krem said.

Dorian sighed as he sat down. “Ah, I remember those roaches. I used to keep one as a pet.”

Krem stared at Dorian as though he'd just realized that Dorian was a talking druffalo. “Fucking alti,” he muttered into his drink.

Cullen joined them with a variety of drinks, setting them in the center of the table. “This should settle from last week's game,” he said.

Josephine gave Cullen a smile. “It was so fun! It's a shame you couldn't join us, Dorian. Cullen had to leave in his boxers, boots, and coat.”

Dorian laughed. “My, that does sound interesting.”

Once everyone had settled in, Blackwall brought over a massive platter of fries, smothered in cheese and chili. Rocky and Cullen dug in with unrestrained enthusiasm, Adaar and Lavellan close behind. It never failed to amaze Bull how much the tiny elf could put away.

Bull might have made a couple of innuendos when they first started hanging out, but Lavellan was extremely asexual. Lavellan knew Bull didn't mean it, after all, Bull flirted with everyone. Yet when Bull backed off with the flirting, Lavellan started to open up more.

“Evelynn not joining us?” Dalish asked, leaning towards Cullen.

“She's at an EMS conference,” Cullen replied.

“Aw, you miss her!” Dalish said, reaching out and pinching Cullen's cheek. “That's the sweetest thing! A cop and a paramedic, true love!”

Cullen blushed bright red, and buried his face in his hands.

Sometimes these nights were about playing card games and betting outrageously, and sometimes they were about catching up and relaxing. Bull liked those more, just to give himself time to let go of the stress of his job.

Bull always enjoyed hanging out with everyone from the University as well as Cadash and the others from the Skyhold PD. Cadash had given the Chargers their nickname, just like she gave nicknames to every PD squad. The bunch of them had sort of coalesced over time, but Bull wouldn't change it for the world.

After a bit, he noticed Dorian wasn't saying much. Instead, Dorian frowned at his phone. He tapped something out and put it away, the expression not leaving his face.

“Something the matter?” Bull asked, nudging Dorian with his elbow.

Dorian shook his head. “No, everything's just fine.”

Bull almost believed it.

It wasn't five minutes later that Dorian's phone began to buzz. He excused himself with a nod, and stepped outside. There was a stiffness to his back, a speed in his exit. It rang a bell in Bull's head. He knew Dorian left Tevinter for a variety of reasons, but if there was some sort of threat to Dorian, Bull wanted to know about it.

He waited a moment before excusing himself to the bathroom. A side door led outside, and he kept an ear out for Dorian's voice. He picked it up almost immediately, the smooth aristocratic cadences clear in the winter air.

“-it's fine, I'm with some friends from the University and from the police department,” Dorian was saying. He paused, listening to the voice on the other line. “No, dear, I know. You're right, it is a bit late.”

There was another long pause. “Okay, amatus, I'll be home soon. I promise. I love you too.”

Dorian headed back inside, and Bull made sure to take his time in the bathroom, to cover up his timing. When he came back out, Dorian hadn't sat back down.

“I'm afraid that's it for me tonight,” Dorian said, inclining his head.

“What, running home cause your boyfriend's a worrywart?” Sera said, but the tone of her voice said she was all too familiar with this particular song-and-dance routine.

“Hardly,” Dorian replied. The edges of his posture betrayed him, however. “I have quite a bit of work to attend to. My apologies, everyone. Another time.”

He swept out of the bar, a chorus of goodbyes in his wake. Sera didn't say anything though, instead slumping back in her seat.

“What's up?” Bull asked.

She scowled at the door. “I don't like it. He's always running off to his stupid boyfriend cause his boyfriend's a prick.”

“You've met him?”

“He's nice, if a bit aloof,” Adaar interjected. “He dotes on Dorian, though.”

“Yeah, and everytime we want Dorian to do something, his boyfriend's like 'blur blur, can't go anywhere, I'm a cockweasel',” Sera added. “Dorian used to hang out all the time.”

But if Sera had any more to say about Dorian's boyfriend, she didn't continue, as Blackwall delivered another round of fries and beers. Her enthusiasm dampened after that, and she picked at her food, only speaking up when Dagna talked to her.

It wasn't until later, after everyone filed out and Bull was on his way home, that Bull started running over everything in his head. He told himself it was because Dorian was one of his friends, and Bull always guarded his friends closely. If something or someone had both Dorian and his boyfriend on edge, then Bull needed to pay attention. Because Bull and Dorian were friends. No other reason.

\------------

It never failed, in Bull's experience. The weekends drew out all the crazy in people, and Fridays and Saturdays were always the worst. So when Dispatch gave them orders to a possible domestic violence dispute in one of the rich districts of Skyhold, neither Bull nor Krem were surprised.

"Saturdays suck," Krem said, right before he flipped on the sirens. Bull wasn't about to disagree. “How come we always get stuck covering everyone else's districts except our own?”

The apartment complex they got called to had a reputation for being one of the nicest and most expensive in town. They didn't even list the prices, and the website for the place required several letters of recommendation before they even gave you an interview. Dalish looked it up one day just for fun, after arresting some lady who set her own apartment on fire in a drug-induced haze.

Didn't matter how rich, crazy was crazy, drug addicts were drug addicts, and abusers were abusers.

The report was simple. Neighbors complained of shouting and sounds of a physical dispute, and from what they said, it wasn't the first dispute. Just the loudest.

"Skyhold PD," Bull shouted, rapping on the door to 115. He and Krem took up positions on either side of the door. It bothered Bull that he hadn't heard any noise since they arrived. No raised voices, no sounds of fighting, nothing. Just silence.

The door cracked open, just enough for a man with shaded cheekbones and arching eyebrows to appear. Definitely Tevene. Bull couldn't see much of the apartment behind him, just some fancy, minimalistic furniture leading into a designer kitchen.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, voice like silk, raising one perfect eyebrow.

"We received report of a noise complaint," Krem said. “Sounded like a fight, possibly domestic conflict.”

The man smiled. "Perhaps you have the wrong apartment," he replied.

Krem didn't so much as blink. "You hear anything going on tonight?"

"No," the man responded, eyes narrowing.

"Someone in there with you?" Bull asked.

The man looked over his shoulder then, and Bull heard someone murmur something. He turned back to Bull and Krem, a wry smile on his face. "We're fine," he said. "Now, unless you have anything else, or perhaps a warrant, I believe we're done."

The man tried to close the door, but Bull blocked it with one heavy boot. "Yeah, no," Bull said. "If we have reason to suspect that someone in there is in danger, we have every right to enter. So if your partner or whoever is in there, how about we talk to them first and make sure everything's good?"

“Fine,” the man snapped, then someone else pulled the door open fast enough to make Bull's hand twitch toward his gun.

Dorian stood on the man's right side, scowling at the two of them. “Do you mind?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Bull's gaze slid over Dorian. He was wearing a silk robe, and had it pulled tight across him, as though it were a suit of armor. His expression had been schooled into one of indifference, but his lip was bloodied and split. Bull could also see a bruise blooming on the side of Dorian's neck. It sure as hell wasn't the sexy kind of bruise, either.

“Dorian, what's up?” Bull asked. He glanced back to Dorian's boyfriend, whose expression was equally blank.

“Nothing,” Dorian said, in a tone so cold that it sent a chill down Bull's spine.

“We received a report of a domestic dispute,” Krem said, and Bull could hear the heat rising in his voice. “Are you sure-”

“If we'd heard anything, we'd have told you.” The snap in Dorian's voice felt like a verbal slap. “If you don't mind, I'd like you to leave.”

The man, presumably Dorian's boyfriend, turned back to Bull and Krem with a dry, unamused look. “I believe that's all, gentlemen. Have a nice night.”

And with that, he slammed the door in their faces.

Neither of them said anything until they got back in their squad car, the air too sour for words. Everything became clear, in that second. The phone call, Dorian's abrupt exit the other night, Sera's complaint of Dorian spending less and less time with friends.

For a moment, they sat in the car, and Bull tapped his fingers against the dashboard. “I don't like this,” he growled.

Krem huffed, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “What the fuck? Dorian's smarter than this, right?”

“You and I both know that it's not about smart, Krem,” Bull said, looking up at the apartment door. “And there isn't shit we can do. At least, not now.”

Driving away from the apartment complex felt like a betrayal. Krem said nothing, driving in silence, the muscles of his jaw tight. Bull started to write the call report on his laptop, ignoring the growing ball of rage in his chest. He didn't know how he was going to deal with this, not yet, but he sure as hell wasn't about to sit by and do nothing.

After all, he'd seen enough cases to know how they ended.

 


	2. Protect Me From What I Want

If Bull hadn't been scheduled to work for the next few days, he would have been at the University on Monday morning to check up on Dorian. As it was, all he could do was text Sera, asking her about Dorian. He didn't know if he should tell people or not, wasn't sure if that would help or hurt, so he played it safe for the time being.

Bull: _hey you mind checking in on dorian?_

His phone vibrated a few minutes later.

Sera: _u have his number_

Sera: _i gotta chase this assface outta prezzys office_

Sera: _check my vine later 4 ferrets_

Bull shook his head and put his phone away. If he couldn't have Sera check on Dorian, then it was best he do it himself. This conversation needed to be had in person, and Bull still needed to figure out what he wanted to say.

Krem spent most of his shifts with Bull either working, or in angry silence. He stared at his phone a lot, tapping out messages just to delete them and huff in frustration.

“I don't get it,” Krem said, as he and Bull got coffee to get them through the last part of their shift. “How did I not know about this? We've known each other for over a year. And I can't just text him and ask. If that asshole is monitoring his texts...”

“What do you know about Dorian's boyfriend?” Bull asked.

Krem shrugged. “Well, first, he's not Dorian's boyfriend. They're married. Aside from that, not much. His name is Rilienus, he moved here with Dorian from Tevinter so they can openly have a relationship. Dorian fucking worships him. ”

Bull took a long drink of his latte. “Shit.”

“So we gotta do something,” Krem said. He rolled the coffee cup between his hands, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“We can't just confront him,” Bull replied. “He'd just deny all of it, close himself off, and we'd be worse off. Out of all the cases we've seen, it's always the ones who have nowhere to turn or think they have nowhere to turn that stay, right?”

“Great generalizing, Chief,” Krem snapped. After Bull raised his eyebrows, Krem sighed. “Sorry, this is just fucking shitty. He's my friend.”

“I know, Krem.” Bull scratched at his face. “We just gotta make sure Dorian knows he's got a way out.”

Krem spat out a string of Tevene curses. Bull patted him on the back, then his radio beeped, and they moved onto their next call.

\----0000----

Bull didn't get many days to sleep in, so when his phone started buzzing every five seconds on his first day off, he was understandably irritated.

Sera: _oi varric is buying us food_

Sera: _wanna get some good stuff outa him_

Sera: _answer fuckit_

Sera: _ill get bees_

Sera: _too cold for bees lemme find a spare ferret_

Bull groaned and rubbed at his eye. The curtains kept out the light and kept in the heat, which was a damn good thing in the middle of winter. He managed to tap out a reply without having to pay too much attention to it.

Bull: _calm your tits_

Bull: _i'll find out if krem's up for it_

Well, there wasn't any going back to sleep now. He might as well get up and get breakfast.

Bull had bought a house a while back, a good investment when the two people living in it had varying levels of paranoia from years of service either in the army or in special operations. Some apartment complexes frowned on installing extra safety features, and especially frowned on the array of weapons both he and Krem liked to keep.

The place had also turned into a good place for the Chargers to crash, or for any other strays they happened to pick up. Hell, they had people sleeping on their couch more often than not.

Bull poked his head into Krem's room. “Hey, you want eggs?”

Krem muttered something unintelligible and pulled the comforters up around his head.

“You want coffee?”

“Mrrf.”

“You want to make actual words?”

Krem threw a boot at his face, and Bull ducked back out of the room, laughing.

Most mornings, Bull was the one to make breakfast and coffee, sticking to a routine that calmed him. His therapist went on about how it was important to create his own structure now that he'd left the Qun.

Granted, Bull thought it was shit that he had to see a therapist at all, but after he'd nearly shot Krem after a nightmare, he didn't have a lot of options. Besides, after he started seeing the man and taking his advice, things got better.

Once the smell of bacon and eggs started drifting through the house, Krem came out of his room in his binder and pajama pants and grabbed the pot of coffee out of Bull's hands.

“Why do you have to wake me up anyways?” Krem asked, squinting up at Bull. “Not on call.”

“Sera's pitching a fit. Besides, thought we could drop by and visit Dorian,” Bull said. “Get lunch, that sort of thing.”

Krem picked out his favorite mug, an ugly-ass thing that looked like a nug's face. Bull'd made fun of him for buying it, and he'd continue to make fun of it because it was fucking hideous. But Krem'd been pissy enough without Bull dumping on him, so he held off. Bull knew when not to push.

Bull dished out some food for Krem, and they ate in silence for a while. Krem didn't seem like he wanted to talk, but Bull knew he'd come around.

Finally, Krem woke up enough to form actual sentences.

“We can meet up, I guess,” Krem said, fidgeting with his mug. “All this is driving me crazy. I want to text Dorian and talk about all this, but I know he's just going to shut me down.”

Bull nodded. At least Krem was talking instead of stewing.

“Look, you just don't meet a lot of good people from Tevinter, and it's a damn shame that I thought Dorian's husband might have been one of them,” Krem spat. “But I bet you anything that Dorian thinks all this is perfectly fine because at least they _can_ be married, you know?”

“Yeah,” Bull replied. “I know.”

Krem stood up. “I'll clean up, Chief. Just lemme know what the plans are.”

\---000---

The best part of being friends with people like Sera and Varric was that they never got boring. Not that boring was a thing that had ever been a part of Bull's life, but hey, you go with what you get sometimes.

So when Sera told him to meet up with Varric and some others at a fusion cafe downtown and to bring Krem, he was more than happy to do so. He liked being kept on his toes, liked the variety that they brought into his life just as much as he liked the routine of his mornings.

But he had someone to see first, so Krem went on ahead, and Bull stopped by the University. The good thing about Dorian was that you could always find him in the same place: in his study, probably ass-deep in his own research.

Dorian stood in front of one of the bookcases, idly rubbing his chin. Bull took a moment to gather his thoughts, and then took a moment to admire Dorian's profile. An ass like that deserved to have songs written about it, should be memorialized as a work of art.

Bull shook his head. He wasn't here to fantasize about a friend who was dealing with an abusive partner. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Hey,” Bull said, leaning against the doorway.

Dorian glanced at him. “Ah, Iron Bull. What brings you here?”

The lines of Dorian's posture didn't match his casual tone. Bull saw the lingering mark on Dorian's lower lip, something healed quickly but without finesse. Perhaps Dorian healed it himself, to avoid attention. It probably worked most of the time, if no one knew what to look for.

“How you doing?” Bull asked.

“Marvelous, thank you,” Dorian replied, turning back to his bookcase. “Although I'd be happier if students started putting books back in their proper places when they borrow them from me. Makes my research a good deal more difficult.”

Classic deflection. Iron Bull might be built like a fucking tank, but that didn't mean that he didn't know how to be gentle when the situation called for it, and this situation definitely did.

“Krem and I wanted to make sure you're okay,” Bull said. “He'd be here, but I made Sera take him out for food so he'd stop fussing.”

Dorian didn't look at him. “I wasn't aware there was a problem.”

Bull took a moment to take a deep breath, slow his heart rate to less dangerous levels. “We showed up at your apartment the other night. Want to talk about it?”

“There's nothing to talk about,” Dorian said, spinning around to face Bull.

“All right,” Bull replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I'm not gonna push you. But look, if you do want to talk, there's a lot of people to talk to. We're worried about you, that's all.”

Dorian hesitated. “I... thank you for your concern, but it isn't necessary.”

A powerful urge swept over Bull, to tell Dorian to leave the asshole and move on with his life, tell him that he shouldn't have to put up with that dick. Bull wanted to tell Dorian how fucking brilliant he was and how he was worth so much more than this.

“You're important to a lot of people, Dorian. If you need help, we're here for you,” Bull said.

Dorian waved a hand at him. “That's all well and good, I suppose. Now, did you simply drop by to inquire about my wellbeing, or did you need something else?”

“Well, we're about to grab lunch, if you want to join us,” Bull said. “Meeting up with Varric. He owes everyone drinks.”

“Thank you for the invitation, but I'm meeting my husband,” Dorian said. “There's some new Rivaini bistro that we wanted to investigate.”

Bull forced himself to smile. “Okay, no problem. I'll see you around.”

Dorian gave a sarcastic bow, a small smile on his face, and Bull left his study. Just as he did, he spotted Rilienus crossing the library. He wore a long, perfectly tailored wool coat that must have cost a fortune, and he carried a beautiful bouquet of crystal grace and blue roses.

“What brings you here?” Bull said, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat to prevent them from accidentally finding their way around the man's neck.

Rilienus smiled at Bull. “I don't need a reason to see my husband.”

“Nah, course not,” Bull replied. “Nice flowers.”

Rilienus narrowed his eyes, lips twisting into something a sneer. “Yes, well. Another time.”

“Sure,” Bull said, with a nod. “See you around.”

Rilienus turned his attention away from him, and proceeded on. Bull stuck around a second longer, watching as Rilienus presented the flowers to Dorian, who smiled as though the man hung the stars in the sky.

He didn't get it.

But Iron Bull didn't want to stick around any longer and risk giving in to the urge to crack Rilienus's face, and he had people to meet up with, so he left them alone.

He found the cafe well enough, a tiny hole in the wall sort of place wedged between an Antivan boutique and a bicycle shop. The windows had been painted, displaying a dragon mid-flight, lightning spewing from its jaws. Bull could smell something spicy and savory as he entered the cafe. Varric sat at one of the tables, Krem and Dagna already there.

“Hey there, Tiny,” Varric said, raising a hand as Bull sat down. “What's up?”

Bull shrugged. “Not much. Dropped by to see Dorian and invite him to lunch, but he's going out with his husband.”

“Ah, his loss,” Varric said. “This is my new favorite place. They do this fusion thing with noodles and curry that'll knock you on your ass.”

Bull grinned. “Aw, hell yeah. Been looking for a place with good spicy food since that last place burned down.”

“The restaurant with the tiny elf guy with all the tattoos?” Krem asked.

“Yeah, turns out he was balls deep with some sort of drug trade and owed money to the Coterie so he tried to fake his own death,” Bull said with a sigh.

Varric laughed. “That's amazing. I should remember that for future reference.”

“Where's Sera?” Bull asked.

“She's off chatting with one of the servers,” Dagna said. “They're Jennies.”

“You're not supposed to tell me that,” Bull said.

Dagna shrugged.

Varric started talking about all the money his shifty publisher owed him while they waited for their food. Bull had ordered the spiciest item on their menu, something labeled “Firebird Soup” that claimed a variety of peppers from Par Vollen. Dagna had ordered for Sera, which was fairly normal by now. Sera hated being medicated for her ADHD, so she often got a bit distracted.

Sera came back about ten minutes later to find Varric listening intently to Dagna's work on her thesis for her PhD.

Sera wedged herself into the space between Varric and Dagna. “My girlfriend,” she told Varric, wrapping her arms around Dagna's neck.

“We just got married,” Dagna said, giggling. “I'm your wife.”

“Wait, when'd you get married?” Krem asked.

Sera shrugged. “Like, two days ago? We just went into the courthouse and did it.”

“Got married, not had sex,” Dagna said with a blush at Varric's grin.

“Congratulations,” Varric said, raising his glass. “You two kids having a party?”

Sera hummed. “Maybe. You want a party?” she asked Dagna. “We can have a big party. I can find fireworks. Or get Dorian to make fireworks. He's good at that.”

“Fireworks are illegal,” Krem told her.

“Ooooo, you gonna tell on me?” she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him.

“I'm a cop,” Krem said, raising his eyebrows. “Technically, I could arrest you.”

“Would you though?” Varric asked. “That seems out of character.”

Krem shrugged. “I mean, if I'm not invited, probably.”

Bull laughed and clapped Krem on his shoulder, nearly sending Krem face-first into his pasta.

“Yeah, we'll have a party and invite you two so no-one gets arrested,” Dagna said, kissing Sera's cheek. “I'll plan something.”

Bull held up a hand as his phone started to buzz. He knew it was his boss as soon as he answered, just from her immediate response.

“ _Iron Bull._ ” Malika Cadash's voice sounded serious all the time, even when she was joking, but Bull could read the inflections in her voice. She didn't sound like she had time to fuck around.

“Hey, boss, what's up?” Bull asked.

“ _I need you and Krem to meet me in my office asap_ ,” she said. “ _As in, tonight. This isn't up for discussion._ ”

Bull elbowed Krem. “Is there a problem?”

“ _No, I'm calling you in to braid my hair_ ,” she snapped.

“Ah, boss, but I'm good at braiding hair,” he said. “What, you think all Qunari braid their own hair all the time?”

She let out a sigh. “ _Bull, at any other time I'd love to find out about Qunari hair culture, but we've got a big problem with your call report to Dorian's place. I'm not going to go into it now, but you better get here._ ”

Unsurprisingly, Cadash hung up on him. Bull wasn't sure if that was a Cadash thing, or a Carta thing, or a dwarf thing. Varric also had a tendency to hang up on people. You know, when other people didn't hang up on him first.

Krem nudged Bull with his elbow. “What's up?”

“We better head on out soon,” Bull said. “Boss wants us in her office. It's about our call the other night.”

“Which one?” Krem asked.

Bull gave Krem a serious look. “The one that pissed us both off,” he replied. “Cadash says there's an issue.”

Krem clenched his jaw. “Was there another call?”

“She said there's a problem with the report, so I don't think so,” Bull said.

Varric leaned across the table. “Something good?” he asked, and Bull recognized that mischievous look in his eye that Varric got whenever he thought he found a good story.

“No,” Bull sighed. “There's nothing good about this.”

\----0000----

They talked to Cadash later that evening, when they went to report in.

Malika Cadash was built like most dwarves: short and stocky. She'd joked she was more built than most military forts, and Bull agreed. She kept her thick dark hair back in braids, and her old Carta tattoos faded into her dark skin. Cadash liked her office to stay military-levels of pristine. So when Bull and Krem walked in to find papers spread out over her desk and a bin full of empty coffee cups by her side, they knew shit was up.

“I got your report,” Cadash said, holding up the printout of Bull's log. “And I've got some questions.”

“What's up, boss?” She rarely sounded that serious.

She dropped the report on her desk. “So I checked the dispatch call logs, and your report is the only one turned in on calls to that apartment complex in ten months.”

“That... can't be right,” Krem said, leaning in toward Cadash. “Dispatch said there was a history of calls about 115.”

Cadash nodded. “Yup. I don't doubt it's true. But there's no evidence. Call logs don't exist. If the reports were written up and turned in, they don't show up either.”

“So what, someone's messing with the records? Why?”

“Fuck if I know,” Cadash said, leaning back in her chair. “Our boy Dorian's in deep with this accountant guy Rilienus, and there were calls about potential domestic violence, potentially going back months. That's a lot of effort to cover this up.”

“Again, why?”

Cadash huffed. “Fuck, you two shits think I know everything? All I got on them is that they're from Tevinter, and Dorian's last name wasn't originally Abrexis. That's Rilienus's surname, not Dorian's. Dunno what Dorian's original last name was.”

A long silence stretched out between them. Bull gnawed on his lower lip, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Krem's leg bouncing up and down.

“So what now?” Krem asked.

“We have to figure out who's messing with police records and dispatch records,” Cadash said, face deadly serious. “Sure, domestic violence is bad, but this is a big offense. I smell a lot of shit here, and I just got done busting a lyrium smuggling ring with Cullen.”

“Hey, didn't know that closed,” Bull said, with a grin.

She shrugged. “Being ex-Carta has its perks. Now, I can't do anything about your boy Dorian unless he presses charges, and you know it. I can't do anything about his husband unless he's brought up on charges, and you know it. So far, we've got nothing but a bunch of red tape and a pile of questions.”

“Permission for the Chargers to take over the case, boss,” Bull said, raising a hand. “Vested interest.”

“Denied,” Cadash snapped. “If this blows up I can't have anyone on the investigation that knows them outside of official business. I gotta cover my ass with this one.”

She leaned forward and put her elbows up on the desk. “I got a really bad feeling about all this. Stay sharp. Keep in contact with Dorian. Try to keep him from getting isolated. We'll... figure something out. We have to.”

The three of them sat there for several minutes in silence. Bull could feel the unspoken end to that statement, the finality of it. None of them wanted to acknowledge it.

  
  


 


End file.
